Don't Fade Away
by coveryoureyes
Summary: The job that Harriet had once thought made her a guardian angel of sorts over Derek Hale was now considered a heavy responsibility, a destiny that gave her more power than she would ever have wanted for herself. "So if I wanted to, say, pop in for a visit to chat – or, y'know, emasculate him with my brand of cutting words – he would be woefully unprepared?"
1. Chapter 1

YEAR 0

Jessica Rathbone was covered in sweat, her blonde hair plastered to her forehead, but she had never been happier in her life. Tears were clouding her eyes, and when she looked up to her husband Ryan she saw that he wore a similar expression. Their nurse walked back over to them, and gently handed Jessica the blanket-wrapped little girl that had just been born.

Ryan leaned down until his head was just beside his wife's and laughed softly before murmuring, "She looks just like you. God, she's so beautiful."

She smiled widely in response and her voice wavered when she whispered, "She's perfect."

They had already agreed on what they would name their baby depending on whether it turned out to be a little boy or girl. He squeezed his wife's shoulder and kissed her lightly on the cheek.

"Our Harriet Lianna."

The infant began to squirm, finally freeing her left arm and waving around her clenched fist. Finding her mother's index finger, she wrapped her fingers around it with all of the strength a newborn has. When her eyelids began to flutter Jessica leaned in with a smile.

"Ready to see the world, Harriet?"

The moment their baby opened her eyes, Jessica and Ryan's lives were altered irreversibly.

Harriet's eyes flashed a bright silver before the irises faded into a light greenish hazel.

Both parents' breath hitched as they choked back horror, Ryan looking up quickly to make sure none of the nurses had seen what had just happened.

"Oh god. Oh god, I thought your family didn't carry those genes anymore."

Tears streamed silently down her face when she answered hoarsely, "They never really die out, but there hasn't been a bond formed in my family since the nineteenth century."

"Are we sure? Is there any way it was a fluke?"

Jessica unwrapped the top half of their daughter's blanket cocoon and gently extracted her other arm from where it had been pressed against her side. Sure enough, a wide, silver, tattoo-like band was wrapped around Harriet's right wrist.

Knowing that his wife was close to sobbing, he took the baby from her arms, cradling her to his chest tightly as he crooned down into the wide-eyed face of his first child.

"Everything will be alright, pretty girl. My pretty, brave girl. You are so special. You are going to be so, so special."

* * *

YEAR 11

Talia Hale looked at her backyard fondly as her children roughhoused with their cousins. Sitting by her side on identical lawn chairs to the one she was inhabiting was her husband as well as her two sisters. Her smile grew as the shrieks of the children playing tag morphed into growls, eyes flashing a dark gold in an attempt to intimidate one another.

Kyra, her younger sister, laughed loudly when she saw her own youngest son Jake try to growl, instead letting out a strangled sound closer to a cat's yowl. Pressing her hand tightly to her mouth, she struggled to stifle her snorting.

"I know I shouldn't laugh Tally, but damn, his older sister sounded just the same until she was eight or nine."

Talia's husband David let out a resigned groan when he caught sight of two dark-haired heads quickly scaling a pine tree, claws digging into the bark. His eleven year old son was constantly trying to outdo his older sister lately after she had called him a puppy last month.

"Derek and Laura are racing to the top again. If Laura wins we'll have to deal with a grumpy Derek for two days at least."

Before she could respond, all of the adults froze. A dark smoky cloud was forming on the grass in front of them, and before they could react it grew taller and eventually formed a short humanoid shape. In an instant the smoke dissipated with a loud 'whoosh' and in front of them stood a young girl.

Just a second after she appeared, she fell back and landed hard on her tailbone. Her hazel eyes were opened wide and she looked utterly bewildered.

Talia felt her eyes flash a bright red and turned to see her sisters flashing their own wolf-like eyes. The children, somehow not having noticed the creature that had arrived just in front of their parents, continued playing while the adults' claws sprouted, assessing the threat situated between them and their young.

The girl seemingly didn't notice the werewolves' display, not reacting, instead climbing to her feet slowly and wincing when she stood upright, groaning out an annoyed, "ouch."

Just a second later, her head whipped up and her eyes met Talia's, an expression of embarrassed nervousness on her face, cheeks flooding with a dark blush.

"I'm so sorry, this is my first time getting called. I didn't mean to, uh, that wasn't supposed to happen…" she trailed off and to everyone's begrudged amusement looked down at the ground, wiping the dirt and grass off of her rear and muttering insults at herself. She adjusted the straps of the denim overalls she wore over a blue t-shirt and tucked the pieces of hair that had escaped her blonde braid behind her ears, still quietly berating herself.

However, when she looked back up, a bright smile covered her face and she stuck out her hand in a polite greeting.

"Anyways, I'm Harriet Rathbone, nice to meet you."

By this point all of the wolves had stopped their display of aggression, all clearly sensing that the girl was not a threat. Incredibly strange, and obviously supernatural, but not an obvious threat.

When Talia didn't immediately shake the hand Harriet had offered, Morgan, her other younger sister and Kyra's identical twin, quickly interceded, reaching over and shaking the girl's hand after smelling the humiliation that had begun to flood her scent.

"Hello, Harriet. I'm Morgan Hale, it is a pleasure to meet you as well."

Her handshake was firm, and Talia snapped out of her dazed confusion to reach over after the first introduction had ended.

"My name is Talia Hale, I'm the Alpha of this pack."

Harriet's reaction was drastic, taking all of the adults off guard. Her smile became much more genuine and she let out an excited squeal, bouncing lightly on her feet and looking ready to burst.

"Oh wow. Wow, this means my person is a werewolf. That's so cool! I thought they'd be something lame like a nymph or a gnome." She let out an impressed whistle and smiled again, "But a werewolf. I got lucky, can't wait to meet 'em."

Though the child in front of them was undoubtedly cute, and her enthusiasm seemed infectious, an uneasy, instinctual feeling began to creep over Talia.

"Harriet, you said you were here to meet your 'person.' What do you mean by that?"

"Well I got called, which means that my person is here. I haven't gotten to meet whoever they are, but since I'm here now it means that they're here."

In the midst of her explanation, the girl stuck her arm out to shake David's hand. Appearing to be painted onto her wrist was a thick silver band.

Talia's breath caught and she choked in terror.

Before Harriet could grab her husband's hand she intercepted it, gripping the child's wrist tightly.

"Who are you here for?"

Seemingly not noticing the strength Talia was putting behind her hold, a look of confusion crossed her face.

"I don't know yet, I just told you that."

Leona looked as though she was about to interrupt what was happening in front of her, a concerned look on her face, until she too saw the marking.

In an incredibly shaken voice she breathed, "She's a Reaper."

Morgan leaped out of her chair, harshly ordering, "Get to the kids."

All of the adults rushed over to where the kids were, trying to remain calm as they shouted that the kids needed to come over to them _now._

Everyone obeyed, everyone but Laura and Derek, who continued to climb up the pine tree. Talia began to panic, and let loose an Alpha growl before demanding, "Laura and Derek, get down here right now!"

She saw annoyed and exasperated expressions cross both of their faces, but they began to descend, albeit reluctantly. Whipping her head around she caught sight of Harriet – no, _the Reaper_ – scanning all of the kids before finally looking up to where her two oldest were scaling down the tree as quickly as they could. When the girl's eyes landed on Derek, her irises flashed a bright silver.

At that moment, Derek fell.

He was twenty feet from the grass below, but as he hurdled down he hit a thick branch of the pine, and the loud snap of his spine echoed across the yard.

Talia didn't hesitate. She launched herself at her son and landed next to where he now lay face up on the ground, dropping to her knees. Laura had dropped down as well and knelt beside him, tears streaming down her face as she babbled, "Mom, I didn't mean it, I'm sorry, I didn't mean it."

Talia touched her son's face gently, taking as much of his pain as she could while she wiped away his tears. When Harriet smoked into existence just across from her on Derek's other side, similarly kneeling, everyone who had crowded around flinched back at both her sudden appearance and the roaring sound that accompanied it.

Distracted from his pain for a moment, Derek turned his head slightly so he could see her more clearly. When their gazes met the girl's eyes flashed silver once again, and his flashed gold seemingly involuntarily in return. Though tears continued to fill his eyes, he sputtered, "Who are you?"

With a smile softer than any she had seen thus far, Talia watched as she leaned slightly over him and replied quietly, "My name's Harriet. I'm sorry you're hurt."

Before she could stop it, Talia watched the girl comb through her son's dark hair, repeating the motion while Derek slowly began to relax.

"Oh. I'm Derek."

"Yeah, I know."

By then all of the children and the adults had crowded around, and David was waving everyone away.

"Alright, everybody back up. He's going to be okay, but we've got to take him back to the house."

David gingerly lifted up his son, trying his best not to jostle him, and everyone walked up to the back porch before congregating in the family room. Wincing heavily and continuing to try to stifle his whimpers, Derek finally let out a low sigh of relief as he was placed on the couch and able to lie still on the soft surface.

Kyra, being the most proficient in first aid, crouched down next to the couch so she was at eye level with her nephew.

"Hey buddy, where on your back did you hit? And how're you feeling one to ten?"

"About halfway. Only heard one crack though, and I'm getting feeling back in my legs. Now it's a five or a four."

"Gotcha. Seems like you didn't crush anything, which can take a whole night to heal. You'll be feeling better in an hour or two, especially if sensation is already returning."

"Thanks, Aunt Leo."

Laura had been clutching her mother tightly around her middle, crying and seeming to blame herself, but the news that there wasn't any lasting damage lessened her sobs and she began to whimper instead. Cora had been hiding behind her legs and peeking at Derek, scared that her big brother was crying, but she slowly came out of her hiding place and began to act normally once again.

Kyra stepped aside and Talia took her place, softly holding her son's hand and leeching away as much of his pain as she dared. Before she could grow tired, Morgan took over, followed by Kyra. They kept a steady rotation of fifteen minutes each, and the pattern continued on until nearly an hour and a half had passed. Derek had drifted off and was now sleeping. The cracking sound of his spine realigning caused everyone in the room to let out a sigh of relief.

David left the room to go to the playroom, delivering the news that Derek was fine but resting. The adults had shuffled all of the kids out, not wanting them to panic or stress Derek out even further. Thinking of the children, Talia's thoughts suddenly flew to the young Reaper. She lifted her eyes to the window facing the back yard, and heard a heartbeat fluttering. Walking over to the back door, she opened it quietly and found Harriet sitting at the base of the same pine tree Derek and Laura had been climbing.

Talia slowly approached the girl and saw that she was clutching her knees to her chest and sniffling, wiping roughly at her tears with the back of her hand.

When her footsteps alerted the girl that she was approaching, she looked up and began to cry harder before she stammered, "I'm sorry, I messed up, I didn't know he was mine, I let him get hurt. He's gonna be okay, right?"

Confusion and curiosity flooded her when she replied, "Derek's alright, he healed and now he's resting." She watched as Harriet let out a sigh of relief, her sobs quieting, and gave her a moment to calm down before continuing, "Harriet, why did you come here? Derek is going to be fine."

To her surprise, Harriet stood, crossed her arms, and gave her a look that conveyed she was both insulted and surprised.

"I heard the lady next to you, you guys know I'm a Reaper! Of course I came here! He's my person! I just didn't know it so I wasn't able to do my job right." She finished with a small frown, but didn't allow her indignation to fade..

Not satisfied with the explanation, Talia narrowed her eyes and began to growl out, "Well I am glad you didn't 'do your job right,' if you had killed my son-"

Harriet cut off her threat, uncrossed her hands, and threw them in the air, looking to the sky as if it would answer. "Ugh, no I'm not gonna kill him! Why does everybody think that? It's all wrong; that's not what a Reaper is supposed to do."

Taken aback, she was startled into asking, "Then what is a Reaper supposed to do?"

Harriet immediately straightened her back and clasped her hands behind her, rocking on the balls of her feet and reciting in a manner that betrayed she had often repeated it, "A Reaper's sworn duty is to guard the receiver of the bond. We are to comfort them in times of turmoil. We are to watch over them. And we are to protect them from all those who may wish them harm. At the end of their life, we are to guide them gently to the Great Beyond and follow them into the Shadowland."

The heartbeat of the girl before her remained steady. Each word she uttered was truth, and by the end of her proclamation Harriet was trying and failing to repress a smug smile filled with pride.

The first feelings she was hit with, before any uncertainty set in, was concern and a touch of horror. The girl before her was saddled with a great and terrible burden and responsibility; her life tied to someone else's, someone who she had previously never met. When Talia couldn't call any words to mind, unable to formulate a response yet, Harriet took her silence as a sign to continue. She shook her hands out and fiddled with her fingers in front of her.

"I didn't know at first I was getting called. My mom's the one who teaches me all the stuff but its all from journals and books so we don't know about it all yet. I just had a bad feeling. Then I heard a snap and my back felt like it was moved all wrong. I started getting smoky and then I was in your backyard and saw – oh. What state are we in? I live in Connecticut with my mom and dad. I wonder how far I can go? Mom said I can only use my powers when its to help my person, but the rest of the time I'm just supposed to be human, so I can't try it unless maybe Derek is in China or something and then gets hurt – "

She interrupted the girl's rambling before she finished her musings. She stepped forward and gently untangled Harriet's hands before clasping her right wrist and stroking the pad of her thumb against the silver band that marked her as a Reaper.

"Harriet, are you sure that Derek is the one who is bonded to you?"

She squinted and scrunched up her nose before looking at the sky yet again and saying, "Well its more like I'm the one bonded to him. When I'm around him I feel like, I don't know, I just like him." A horrified look covered her face and her cheeks became bright red before she met Talia's eyes and she rushed out, "That sounded wrong, I don't _like like_ him, but he just seems – I don't know, it's hard to talk about it. I just want to make sure he's not hurt and punch anybody who hurts his feelings."

Again Talia was surprised to hear the genuine caring in her voice and the heartbeat that revealed she was telling the truth. She grasped the girl's other wrist and squeezed softly before releasing them both.

"I believe you. I'm not mad that you're bonded to him. But should you be getting home soon? Will your parents be worried?"

She shrugged at the question and seemed nonchalant when she responded, "Eh, my mom might be, but that's just 'cause she was with me when I smoked. My dad doesn't say it in front of my mom, but we were both excited to see what my person was. They both know that it was gonna happen sometime, but I'll head back soon if you're worried, now that Derek's okay I'm allowed to smoke back."

Harriet continued shifting a bit awkwardly, so Talia inquired, "Is there anything else that needs to be done?"

"Um, it's okay if you say no and everything, but do you think I could maybe say bye to Derek?"

She smiled and turned toward the house, beckoning her to come along, "Of course it's alright, he might be sleeping though. I'll give you my name and address as well as my phone number for you to give to your parents. If you'd like anything to eat or drink let me know as well, we've got enough to feed a whole extended family of wolves."

Harriet followed, and Talia's smile grew when she heard Harriet mumbling to herself behind her, "Werewolves. Dad's gonna freak out."

When they reached the house she held open the door and allowed the girl to walk in first before tipping her head in the direction of the family room and whispering, "Derek's in there on the couch."

Pausing in the threshold for a moment, Talia watched with a smirk as Harriet tip toed in an exaggerated manner, freezing completely when there was any change in Derek's breathing, almost falling over when at one point she was caught on the ball of one foot.

She walked into the kitchen where her husband and her sisters were gathered around the table, each nursing a cup of either coffee or tea.

"How much of that did you all hear?"

David was looking into his mug and swirled its contents twice before he murmured, "All of it."

Kyra shook her head and sounded awed as she said, "This is insane. I admit all I've ever heard about Reapers is the old wives' tale. Then again, we don't exactly eat the townsfolk and chase after girls wearing red. To actually be seeing one…"

Taking over where her twin trailed off, Morgan continued, "I only know how rare they are. They're only assigned by freak coincidence. Only supernatural beings get – well, I guess we know the term 'haunted' doesn't apply anymore – _assigned_ Reapers. From what I've read the Reaper and the supernatural being must be born within the same minute or so. And to top it off, only four or so families in the world still carry the gene."

David reached across the table and grasped his wife's hand, guiding her into the chair beside his.

"Do you think this will be alright? This is Derek, Tally. We can't be wrong about this."

The discussion was cut off when they all heard quiet voices begin to speak from the family room, and they froze so they could listen in.

"Oh, sorry for waking you up."

"Nah, it's fine. Sorry for blubbering on you, I swear I'm not usually a baby."

A light laugh echoed, "You broke your back, if it were me I would have flooded the backyard. Besides, you were gonna beat Laura."

A growling voice shouted from upstairs, "No he wasn't!"

"Yeah he was, I was on the ground, I saw!"

There was a brief pause, and they heard Harriet mumbled in a sad voice, "Anyways, I gotta go home soon, just wanted to say bye."

"Alright, see you, Harriet."

"You can call me Hattie, that's what my baby sister calls me. Bye, Derek."

The now-familiar whooshing sound of her smoking away loudly came from the other room. The adults remained quiet for a few minutes, continuing to drink from their mugs and each thinking over what had happened that day. Kyra and Morgan then took their leave and went up the stairs to the guest bedrooms they were staying in.

A minute or two more followed during which the only activity was David stroking his thumb over the back of Talia's hand, their other finger laced together loosely. They both stood and walked to the family room to check in on Derek one last time. They found him laying on his side, covered by a blanket that had not been there before, asleep again, this time with a small smile on his face.

Squeezing her husband's hand, she breathed out, "Yeah, I think this will be alright."


	2. Chapter 2

YEAR 15

Ryan was awakened by the sound of his older daughter's heaving, rasping breaths, cluing him in to the onset of one of her panic attacks. He rushed into her room and found her sitting at the end of her bed, elbows pressed to her knees and the heels of her palms covering her eyes.

Jessica was staying at her mother's with their ten year old daughter Nora, but luckily Ryan was the one more equipped to deal with Harriet's attacks. Crouching in front of her, he gripped her forearms and pulled them toward him, forcing her to meet his gaze. Her hazel eyes locked onto his own, the only trait she had inherited from him, and the rigidness slowly began to leave her spine.

"Breathe with me, brave girl. In two three, out two three. In two three, out two three."

After what turned out to be her longest attack yet at nearly ten minutes, Harriet regained her composure, though she continued to look unsettled and skittish.

"Dad, something's wrong. I think something's wrong with Derek."

Gently tucking a stray piece of hair behind her ear, he tried to soothe her.

"What makes you think that? Usually you know for sure. Is something different this time?"

"It doesn't feel like he's injured or anything. I'm getting better at feeling his emotions, but this _hurts –_ Dad, it feels like something just got torn out of my chest, like I'm hollow _._ Physical injuries feel weird, but not like this. Something bad happened."

He stood up and nodded to himself, replying, "I'll give Talia a call. You need to be careful when it comes to emotional damage. He hasn't purposely called on you since you were both thirteen, he might not feel comfortable confiding in you all of a sudden."

Ryan regretted his words when Harriet noticeably flinched before choking out, "You're right. I don't think he sees me as his friend anymore."

He didn't know what to say to comfort his daughter – she was no longer the little girl who would blindly believe whatever it was he said. At fifteen she was old enough to view her situation realistically. The job that she had once thought made her a guardian angel of sorts was now considered a heavy responsibility, a destiny that gave her more power than she would ever have wanted for herself.

He left the room, knowing that his daughter preferred to be alone when she was upset, and walked into the dining room to grab a telephone.

The dial tone only rung twice before the call was picked up with a clicking sound.

"Ryan?"

"Talia, are you near Derek? Harriet felt that something bad was happening, but I think it was an emotional response; she is starting to sense pain that isn't just physical."

A moment of silence followed before he heard the Alpha let out a sad sigh.

"Someone very close to Derek just lost her life in a very violent manner. He was there when it happened, and due to the circumstances surrounding her death he blames himself. We are all trying to be there for him, but it will take him a while to mourn and come to terms with what happened."

"I'm so sorry, Talia. I'll let Harriet know what has happened. She's already made it clear that she knows it wouldn't be helpful for her to appear when they haven't seen one another in a few years. I'll make sure she doesn't smoke out unless Derek summons her."

"Thank you, Ryan. And make sure Harriet knows she can always reach out to David and I for updates on Derek if she's worried."

"Alright. Goodbye, Talia."

"Goodbye, Ryan."

Just after hanging up, he turned around to head back to his daughter's room. However, she stood in the doorway of the dining room, leaning against it's frame to support herself. Harriet looked exhausted – she always did after one of her panic attacks. The sad look on her face already told him that she had heard his half of the conversation he'd just finished, and that she had been able to guess the gist of what Talia had said.

"I'll go back to bed, its good to know he's okay. 'Gnight."

"Harriet, wait –"

"I know, Dad, alright? He doesn't need me. It's a good thing, but it doesn't make it feel any better. I just always thought we'd be bigger parts of each other's lives." She closed her eyes and took a few deep breaths before opening them once again adopting a resigned expression, "I'm going back to sleep, I have to get up early tomorrow for diving practice." She turned and left without another word, and a few moments later he heard her door close quietly.

Ryan and his wife had always been worried that too much of Harriet's life would be invested in or intertwined with Derek Hale's. They had never once considered that the very opposite possibility would hurt her just as badly.

Neither Harriet nor her father had noticed yet that the once silver band around her wrist had turned a dark onyx, as if the light had seeped away. The next time her eyes flashed as she tried to feel Derek through their connection, they too would show their newly-darkened state.


	3. Chapter 3

YEAR 16

It set in at dinner, so suddenly that at first she didn't register the pain – as if her body was unable to understand the devastation that had wracked it without any warning.

But just a moment later, her body had evidently adjusted.

Harriet let out a scream so loud that she was sure she had torn her vocal chords to shreds. She fell out of her chair when she began convulsing, and she could hear her parents and her little sister rushing to her side. Her vision began to fade in and out and her scream became a garbled, feral cry. When she began vomiting her mother turned her onto her side. Soon the contents of her stomach had been emptied, and all that left her mouth was a vicious green bile that's acidity burned her already abused throat. Her hearing left her around that time, and as the pictures of the scene around her hit her in flashes she was able to make out her parents frantically shouting while the blurry outline of her sister knelt beside her and began to cry.

The familiar sensation of being called to Derek set in, but just as her body began to evaporate into the dark cloud that would transport her to the other side of the country, she solidified once again. Her senses sharpened and she was able to hoarsely croak, "I can't – its not – help, please."

Her dad began to brush his fingers over her sweaty forehead, but after a few seconds his hand went through her when she spontaneously began to transform into her gaseous form.

The process continued; her beginning to smoke and then feeling pulled back to her body before she could travel to presumably protect Derek.

Nora tentatively spoke from beside her, whispering through her tears, "Hattie, you gotta go see Derek."

Harriet knew that her sister was right – Derek must be in agony if it had affected her so severely. But the pain seemed to be anchoring her to the floor of her dining room, not allowing her to focus enough to transport herself. The thought of Derek – of her need to be beside him and helping him – was what finally gave her the strength to focus enough to complete the process and seek him out.

When she appeared at the location Derek must be in, she fell to her knees, exhausted from the pain she had experienced as her body had waged war against itself to alert her of his emotional trauma. She was in the preserve, just behind the tree line of the Hales' front yard. Heat blasted her front, causing her to instinctively close her eyes and raise a hand to shield them from the heat.

Harriet opened her eyes to the sight of the Hale house being devoured by flames.

Horror rose, and she wobbled to her feet as fast as she could. She sprinted toward the police officers that surrounded the scene and the fire fighters who were attempting to quell the flames that were obviously already out of control – their focus was solely on the house, and luckily nobody seemed to have seen her supernatural appearance. Lurching forward, she ran as fast as she could to a figure who appeared pained as he watched the blaze before them, unable to do anything to stop the horrific event taking place.

He whirled around when Harriet grabbed his upper arm tightly and shrieked, "What's happening? Did everyone get out?"

The man placed his hands on her shoulders and attempted to guide her away from the still-burning house, gently but firmly saying, "Miss, you have to get away from there."

Shaking his hands off violently, her panic caused her to begin hyperventilating as she screamed, "No! No, no, no, no, no! Tell me what happened! Please, I know them, you have to tell me!"

She fell to her knees, shuddering powerfully as she continued to beg and scream unintelligibly at the officer.

He crouched down beside her and she was too weak to resist as he guided her so that she was sitting back with her head bowed down between her bent knees.

Harriet knew that he wouldn't tell her anything if she remained in her panicked state so she nearly choked herself in an effort to stabilize her breathing. The outline of the police officer was nearly indistinguishable with the tears coating her eyes and running down her cheeks. Her whisper was near silent, so she knew he must have read her lips when she asked one last time, "Is there anyone in there?"

His expression crumpled and he visibly steeled himself when he lifted his eyes to hers and said softly, "I'm so sorry. No one has been confirmed to be alive apart from Derek and Laura, who weren't present at the time of the fire."

The relief that flooded her upon hearing that Derek wasn't in the house quickly soured and she felt disgusted with herself for the brief moment of relief. Laura and Derek. Laura and Derek were the only two confirmed to be alive. When she asked her next question, she was already trying to prepare herself for the answer.

"How many people are inside?"

"We can't be sure yet, but we have confirmed so far that seven people were inside the house at the start of the fire, and we suspect a few more may possibly be in there as well though it is unconfirmed."

Oh God. That couldn't be right. Most of the family were werewolves, they should have been able to get everybody out. No. God, no. There wasn't – what had –

Something awful, something _evil_ had happened. They should have been able to escape.

Suddenly Harriet remembered the very reason she was here. Derek. She had to find him. Needed to protect him. Using her powers for just a second allowed her to feel his location, and she turned in the direction that pulled her.

Derek and Laura were standing on the driveway and facing the front of the house, about one hundred feet from where she stood. They apparently hadn't heard her frantic cries or sensed her arrival at all. Laura was slumped against her brother, sobbing loudly and occasionally brokenly crying out names of family members, people that Harriet had met before. People who should have been standing beside them.

Derek stood straight, supporting Laura with an arm wrapped around her shoulders tightly. He was attempting to appear comforting –presumably trying to soothe Laura, but Harriet watched his expression crumple into disbelief and agony every few seconds. She realized in that moment that the two Hales must have been feeling the severing of their pack bonds.

After smoking to Derek's location, the pain that had alerted her to his distress and need for the Reaper had vanished, but it may as well have remained.

She had failed.

Nothing she could do would alleviate his suffering.

She couldn't face Derek and Laura. She didn't have the _right_ to grieve alongside them. So she walked back behind the tree line and watched as the Hale house slowly continued to burn.

Laura and Derek were led away by a police deputy soon after, and Harriet, not knowing what to do with herself, simply walked back toward the town, though she knew the walk would be hours long.

Smoke could be seen over the tops of the trees on the Preserve, but Harriet couldn't bear to let her eyes linger on the grisly sight. When she reached the edge of the town, she immediately entered the only place that seemed to be open. It was a small diner, styled to imitate the 1950's, and the large clock on the wall revealed that it was just past midnight.

She sat in the first booth to the right of the door, and noticed that there were only a handful of people still at the diner, most with a computer in front of them and apparently working. Due to having nothing to do other than getting lost in her thoughts while repeating the horror she had seen over and over again, she nearly fell off of the booth when a waitress stopped by her table.

"Would you like to see a menu? We're closing up the grill soon, but if your order quick we can sneak something in."

Harriet looked at the woman, staring through her face, and found herself unable to really focus on what was happening in front of her. However a few moments later she came back to her senses when the waitress's expression turned to one of wary concern and suspicion.

"I don't have any money. Is it alright if I stay here until you close?"

Something on her face must have given her away – she hadn't seen herself since she had first smoked over during her dinner at home with her parents and sister, but she could only imagine how she looked now. Her tears had only just stopped streaming down her face, and now that she thought about it, she might still have vomit on her face or dirt covering her clothing.

"Alright, hun. Let me know if you need anything."

Time passed. Harriet couldn't measure how much. She hadn't looked back to the clock on the wall, only staring down at her folded hands. The cuff on her right wrist – the one that was a sign of her connection to Derek – continued to reflect the harsh fluorescent lighting off of its onyx surface.

God damnit. She had to face reality. At the moment she was useless. And as selfish and awful of a person it made her, she didn't want to hear the details of the fire right now. She was _sixteen_. Last night she'd been worrying about her upcoming dive meet and having a bisexual identity crisis.

She couldn't deal with this. With the hard truth that it was her fault. Fuck. Fuck, fuck, _fuck._ Just because she had been a self conscious little bitch who was stung by Derek's lack of interest in maintaining a friendship didn't mean she should have just _abandoned_ him for the last few years.

Harriet would allow him to grieve. Keep her distance for a little while.

But now? _Now_ she was done. Harriet could no longer maintain her stupid, fake little life with her ditzy friends and high school drama. She was a supernatural creature, and waltzing around trying to play human for her parents' sake had caused her to try to ignore that part of the world.

It was time to do the opposite.

She would find every creature she could. Witches, vampires, psychics – she had no idea what was out there, and she had waited years too long to try to find out.

Harriet was done with high school, done with the Connecticut suburbs and trying to get recruited for the state college.

Harriet Rathbone, the peppy little high school junior, was dead as of now.

In her place was Hattie, the Reaper sworn to the last son of the Hale pack.


	4. Chapter 4

YEAR 22

Stiles was going to throw up. Or pass out – because dudes didn't _feint_ like girls in period dramas. His hands were shaking as he held the bone saw against Derek's skin and turned it on. He really, really hoped that the roaring sound of it would cover up the crunch of sawing through a frickin werewolf arm.

He was so focused on what he was about to do, that he almost missed the girl who just sort of appeared into existence next to him.

The next second the saw was ripped out of his hands and thrown against the wall. She turned back to him and practically snarled at him before she began shrieking loud enough to make him cringe.

"What the ever-loving FUCK were you trying to do? Saw off his god damn _arm_?"

Stiles panicked – the chick was terrifying, holy crap – and when he turned to Derek for some kind of answer as to who she was, he almost started laughing out of shock. Derek Hale was staring at her with an expression of apprehension that someone got when they're caught doing something bad and waiting to be yelled at.

It became apparent that Stiles had read the expression correctly.

She whirled around and narrowed her eyes at the werewolf before saying in an annoyed voice, "Oh ho hooo, don't even get me started on you, Derek Andrew Hale. I don't care if you've banned me for the last three years, we are going to be having _words_ as soon as we heal up your-" the girl paused and looked down to see the black vomit on the ground before turning back to meet Stiles gaze, asking in a questioning tone, "a string of monkshood wolfsbane, right?" He could only nod silently back at her, and at that moment their interaction was interrupted by Scott bursting into the room and shouting, "Stiles!"

When his friend came into the room, Derek whipped his head around to face him before asking, "Did you get it?"

Scott held up the bullet but was then distracted when he turned to the stranger and said in a bewildered tone, "Who are you?"

Trying to get back to the issue at hand, Stiles looked to Derek and demanded quickly, "What are you gonna do with it?"

Derek was beginning to answer, but he suddenly fell to the ground, unconscious.

Before either Scott or himself could react, the girl lurched toward his friend and snatched the bullet from him, saying, "give me that, puppy." Scott darted toward her – neither of them knew who the hell she was or what she was doing here – but when she quickly began fiddling with the bullet it became clear that she knew what she was doing and evidently trying to help Derek.

She pulled a – was that a _paintbrush?_ – out of the pocket of the smock he now noticed she was wearing, twirling it in her fingers and revealing the blade of a knife on the other side.

Okay, that was kind of awesome.

Using the knife as a makeshift set of pliers, she wrenched the end of the bullet open, pouring the blue wolfsbane powder into the palm of her hand. Without any sort of hesitation, he and Scott watched in equal parts bafflement and fear on her behalf as she slugged Derek across his cheekbone twice. Hard.

The beating to the face made him sit up quickly, and as soon as his eyes focused she grabbed his chin with her free hand and forced his eyes to meet her before she quickly said, "Where's your lighter?"

"Front right pocket."

With an efficiency that made Stiles guess she had been through this process before, she reached into his pocket, lit the wolfsbane on fire, and then _shoved it into his frickin bullet wound_.

Derek began writhing on the floor, but soon seemed to have reverted to his usual self judging by how when Scott asked if he was okay and he retorted sarcastically with a lack of gratitude for the dudes who just saved his furry little werewolf ass. Well, with the help of the weird smoke monster girl thing that apparently knew Derek's middle name.

Hearing a light tapping sound, all the guys turned to see the girl standing with a hip cocked to the side and crossed arms, tapping her foot and wearing an annoyed expression.

Now that Stiles could examine her in detail, she didn't look like the kind of girl that would be a supernatural monster or anything – she kind of just looked like a hipster, an attractive one, even. She was wearing a pair of black leggings and a red tank top, with a denim, paint covered smock, while her feet were bare and dirty. Her hair was dyed pink, and when he looked more closely he could see that she had tucked her knife-paintbrush thing behind her ear. An ear with an impressive amount of ear piercings.

Her tone was sugary sweet, obviously sarcastic when she said slowly, "Well, Derek, care to explain why you're in what looks to be a vet's office shot up with Northern blue monkshood – which we both know is an Argent calling card – and hanging out with a puppy and his horny friend?"

Stiles was so, so busted. But hey, a hot chick in charge had always been his thing, so who could really blame him?

The girl continued to grill Derek, not letting him get in a word when her tone turned acidic and she hissed, "Would you also like to explain why you didn't call on me until your body had to do so involuntarily because you were so close to death?"

Derek glared at her and sighed tiredly before muttering, "Let's not do the whole lecture, Hattie. I'm busy with this kid right now."

Without any sort of warning, the girl kicked the werewolf in between the legs. Derek went _down_ , and both Stiles and Scott winced in sympathy when he groaned in pain.

She crouched down next to him and said, "Go fuck yourself."

Just a second later though, she leaned in and pecked his cheek, patting it softly when she pulled away.

Stiles could see the genuine affection and relief in her features when a small smile came over her face and she whispered, "I'm glad you're okay, Der."

Though he wish he could deny it, he let out a high pitched squeak when she suddenly turned into a cloud of black smoke that dissipated a moment later to reveal that she was gone.

In absolute awe, Stiles turned and met Derek's eyes before saying, "Duuuuude, your girlfriend is scary. But also hot. Scary hot –"

"Jesus Christ, she's not my –"

Scott chose this moment to interrupt, saying with a scowl, "Okay, can we get back to the actual issue?"

Just like that, the hot smoke monster thing named Hattie left the conversation.


	5. Chapter 5

Nora had only just walked into Hattie's apartment when she heard the roaring noise of Hattie smoking in while angry. When she was calm it could sound like a gust of wind but holy shit, this was basically a tornado.

So her big sister was _pissed_.

God, she was not equipped to deal with this right now. She'd been in a group study session at the library for almost five hours as her group had tried to finish their ethnography for her junior year Anthropology course. Coming home to her sister in a rage was not helping with the tension headache that was already developing. She was almost positive that the others who lived with them weren't at the apartment this weekend, so she was on her own with this one. Knowing she didn't have a choice, she let out a resigned sigh and immediately walked to where Hattie was nearly vibrating, and placed her hands on her sister's shoulders.

"Deep breath. Deep breaths, sis."

Her sister followed her directions, closing her eyes and taking a few tense but deep breaths. After a minute or two her eyes opened and her tense shoulders visibly relaxed.

"Want to tell me what just caused Hurricane Hattie?"

Hattie's fists clenched and she stalked over to the refrigerator, pulling out a can of Diet Coke and cracking it open before muttering quietly, "Derek called on me."

Nora dropped her backpack to the ground and whooped loudly, jumping into the air and yelling, "Finally! But you aren't happy so…" she let her arms, which she had raised in a celebratory pose, fall to her sides when she finished her sentence, wincing as she said, "he didn't call on you to mend any burnt bridges."

Her older sister's expression crumpled, which Nora knew was a warning of an upcoming sob session, so she strode over the her and bent down slightly to give Hattie a tight hug. With Hattie being 5'1 and herself being 5'8, embracing her sister was admittedly a little awkward. Any discomfort was immediately pushed from her mind when the tears and heaving breaths started.

Nora could barely make out what Hattie was saying, what with her face buried in her sweater and the hiccups in between each word.

"Derek didn't take back the banishment mandate. His body had to _instinctively_ call on me because he was so close to dying. _He'd rather die than talk to me again!_ " Her final sentence ended with a piercing wail and Nora cringed, awkwardly patting her back and murmuring, "Hey, hey, it's alright. It's okay. On the bright side, now that the banishment is broken, you can go back to him whenever."

Her sister lurched backwards, tears immediately stopping as she demanded more than asked, "Why do you think that."

Nora rolled her eyes at her sister's moodiness and walked to her section of the apartment. She had moved into the apartment with Hattie and her three apartment-mates just before freshman year when she began attending a private boarding school in Providence that was conveniently only two blocks from the apartment Hattie co-owned.

Nearly the entire wall next to her bed was obscured by stacks upon stacks of books. Hattie had began to paint after she had moved out of their parents' house to "find out what she really was" and discovered her talent, but Nora had always been more of a book smart kind of person. With an older sister who was a supernatural creature, what was a nerd to do other than try to read up on every single facet of the supernatural world that she could find?

For God's sake she had been taking Latin for four years so that she could attempt to translate some of the more obscure texts she could find.

To top it off, something that had made her goal to help Hattie by discovering as much literature as she could on Reapers that much more difficult was that very little of that literature still existed. Because the story of Reapers had become a nightmare to the supernatural world rather than a guardian as they were intended, many of the families that carried the gene had tried to destroy the evidence of their ancestors to protect themselves. It was only by sheer luck that their mother's side of the family had been one of the few to keep their records.

Skimming through the books on her shelf, she pulled out a labeled three ring binder that she had stored her translations of a particularly thorough bestiary in. She flipped through it for a minute before finding the passage that she had been citing. Hattie had sat on her bed with her legs crossed, so Nora walked over and sat beside her in a similar pose before she began to read aloud.

 _Due to the Binding between a Shadow Guide and their Intended, the Guide must at rare times obey the Mandate of their subject. If the order compromises the sworn Duty of a Reaper to protect their Intended, it may be_ – alright, this isn't verbatim, but I had to substitute an English word that made more sense _– overridden. Once the Mandate has proven to endanger the Sworn Duty, it may be discarded permanently with similar Mandates, as it is the Reaper's duty to save the Intended from themselves if it becomes_ –again, I had to find the closest English word I could find – _a necessity._

When she had finished reading the paragraph she had translated to the best of her ability, she looked up and saw a wide, almost sadistic grin covering Hattie's face.

Yes, it was sort of frightening that she wore that expression when her sister was a supernatural creature with a knack for guns. But yes, she much preferred it to the crying. Nora was too exhausted herself to deal with any more crying.

Hattie's voice was a pleased drawl when she asked, "What is the probability that Derek would know that his order is no longer gonna work against me?"

Catching on to her sister's line of thought, she grinned herself and snorted before saying, "Absolutely zero percent. We're actually the only ones in the country to my knowledge who have the original Latin text, much less one translated to English."

"So if I wanted to, say, pop in for a visit to chat – or, y'know, emasculate him with my brand of cutting words – he would be woefully unprepared?"

"Absolutely."

The two sisters were now wearing similar gleeful looks, and they burst into laughter. The loud, embarrassing braying sound of their laugh was the only trait they shared. While Hattie had hazel eyes and was short with – well, she had been blonde before she started dying it pink – hair, Nora was tall and had almost black hair with light blue eyes.. Additionally, Nora was – well, Hattie phrased it 'stacked and with an ass to match' – and her big sister was fairly petite.

When they had quieted, the atmosphere of the room had lightened _considerably_ from the shitstorm of angst that had been permeating the air when Nora had first come back. Her observation was proven correct when just a second later Hattie met her eyes and said, "I have to change out of my painting clothes and feed the cat, but after that want to go get a ton of gelato for the freezer before Ethan comes home and bitches about sugar content and calories?"

"Hell yes."


End file.
